


1874

by bedb



Category: Marvel (Comics), Red Wolf - Fandom
Genre: Comancheros are really bad', F/M, Last days of the free living Comanche, Natasha is raped, Sam is James Beckwourth's son, Sharon is claimed by Red Wolf, extreme violence, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The US army is throwing everything it has at bringing the Comanche down. Steve, Sam and Buck are trying to prevent more violence. Sharon and Natasha are captured by Comancheros. Their only help is Red Wolf who is under cover. Extreme violence...man burning. Historically accurate as best as I can make it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Good-bye

Austin in the early summer of 1874 was already hot, but for the Countess and Mrs. Sharon Rogers it was just another day. Normally the Countess, also known as Natasha Barnes, wore riding skirts or leather trousers but Mrs. Rogers was expecting her first baby and the Countess Natalia Alianova Romanova in silk and satin with bustle and gloves was able to get better service than Mrs. Barnes in her buckskins. 

Now it was time to return to the Cattleman’s Security Office so Steve could drive Sharon back to their home on one of the many colorful streets and made up the city of Austin. He was as excited as his wife and sometimes down right goofy over that fact he was going to be a daddy. A daddy! 

The wooden sidewalks of Austin were a bustle with all forms of humanity. Colorful vaqueros rode down the street in one direction while cowboys, White and Black, rode the other way. A small herd of cattle, great massive horned Longhorns, lowed softly as they were being driven out of town by a pair of men with whips, their destination one of the many herds waiting to go up the trail outside of the Texas capital. A Chinese man and woman passed, while the soft serenade of a senorita floated out of a cantina. Chuck wagons loaded down with beans and cornmeal and coffee and anything else the drovers might need creaked by behind teams of mules. A herd of mustang cowponies loped by under the watchful eye of a boy who was either Mexican or Indian. Lithe and doe eyed, he was probably no more than fifteen if that old, but he was one with his pony and as much a part of Texas as the rivers that rolled slowly through the city. Natasha loved it. The only thing missing were the wild Indians who refused to give up their way of life. She knew they were out there, sharp eyed and proud, capable of great compassion and great cruelty. Some of them were her friends, some were legends.

Arriving at the office, Natasha opened the door and allowed Sharon to enter ahead of her. This brought Steve instantly out of an adjoining office with a glass window that had its shades down. “Did you find what you needed?” Steve asked and planted an affectionate kiss on his wife’s lips.

“All to be delivered tomorrow,” Sharon answered.

Natasha smiled and tried to not shake her head. Steve and Sharon were just too sweet to be believed. “Is Buck in the office?” she asked.

“Yeah, go on in,” Steve said and hooked his wife’s arm in his.

Natasha waited for them to leave before slipping into the office where Colonel Fury, Buck and Sam met with another man. “Red Wolf,” she greeted the Coushatta Native, “it is good to see you again.”

“I wish this were a social visit, Natasha, but it’s not,” the handsome long haired Native American replied.

Fury, sitting at the desk, growled, “Comancheros.”

Natasha frowned at her husband and said, “I thought the Texas Rangers handled those things.”

“They normally do, but things are exploding up on the Llano Escatado,” Buck replied and folded his arms across his chest. “Our old friend Quanah Parker attacked a hide hunters’ settlement called Adobe Walls and had his ass handed back to him. He’s not happy and the government wants these last freeing living Comanche brought to heel or killed.”

“They prefer the latter,” Fury said.

“How are we involved?” Natasha asked earnestly. She, Buck and Sam knew the great Comanche warrior personally, and there was no man in the Southern Plains as proud or fierce as Quanah, the son of a Comanche chief, Peta Nocona and White woman, Cindy Parker. Not a soul in Texas didn’t know her sad story, the White woman captured as a child, adopted by the people who took who falls in love with a handsome warrior and bears him three children. Rescued by White standards with her little girl Topsanah, she spent the rest of her sad life trying to get back to her sons. When the little girl died she gave up the will to live. Natasha knew the story by heart and even had Buck take her to the place where Cindy was buried one time. 

“Those Comancheros are agitating things by stealing women and children and trading guns for whatever of value they can get,” Fury continued explaining. “Not all the women go to the Indians…most wind up in whore houses in mining camps or down in Mexico.”

“This group I am trying to get a hold on,” Red Wolf spoke up, “Is really bad. Dwight Hooser is among them.”

Natasha gasped in shock. Dwight Hooser was a man burner. Nothing was worse than a man burner. “Wolf, is it safe?”

“No, but they’ve made off with some women from my side of Texas. I need to get them back, I also need to find Quanah and try and talk him into surrendering peacefully to the government before all hell does break loose. I’ve heard MacKenzie is on the loose with several commands under his belt.”

“Not a rumor,” Fury spoke up. “Half of Ft. Sill is on the move.”

“The Llano Escatado is a long way from Austin,” Natasha reminded them. “How much time do we have to get there?”

“We, Mrs. Barnes?” Buck said with a grin. “Maybe not this time.” The fire flashed in her eyes. “Now don’t get mad,” he said and laid his hands on her shoulders. “This really is way too dangerous.”

“You forget who saved whom the first time,” she reminded him.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, “I’m just thinking about your safety.”

“Well then, when are you leaving?” she asked, refusing to make a scene in front of others. Didn’t mean she had to like it. 

“In the morning,” Buck replied. “Maybe an early night?”

“Why of course, darling. I wouldn’t dare let you leave without a good meal,” she said with a look that said he would be lucky to get boiled beans and hard tack.

“Don’t be that way,” he chided her and opened the office door. “Gentlemen.”

Red Wolf grinned and watched them leave. “I need to go too,” he said and shook hands with Sam and then Fury. There were still four hours before it got dark. Leaving the office by a rear door, he mounted his leopard pony and headed west out of town.

Buck decided for his last night at home for no telling how long, and since she was dressed up, he would take her out to dinner. He also did not have to worry about boiled beans and hard tack. The Cattleman’s Hotel was booming with cow men coming and going at all hours of the day and night, but the food was good in the restaurant. Natasha liked the fresh fish brought up from Galveston, while Buck chewed a long horn steak. Of course Texans had the advantage of eating beef that was relatively young and tender and not something that had walked a thousand miles to a rail line outside of Dodge or Wichita.

After a fine meal they took a leisurely walk to let their food digest before returning to the small house they rented. Pouring them snifters of brandy, Buck offered his wife a drink to smooth things along. She smiled at the offering and graciously accepted it before carrying it into the bedroom and locking the door behind her.

“Aw honey, don’t be that way,” Buck whined and flat handed the door. “Honey!” he continued and raised his voice higher. “I’ll keep yelling until the neighbors report us to the sheriff,” he threatened and slapped the door again.

The door flew open and there stood his wife in lady frilly things that hid nothing from his view. “Are you going to stand there gaping or are you going to come in?” she asked, still looking a little bit dangerous.

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” he asked with a grin and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“I may,” she answered and let her eyes rake his body. “I think you need to get out of those things.”

“Right away, Mrs. Barnes.” 

Natasha sat on the bed and watched as her handsome husband removed his boots and socks, trousers, vest, shirt and long johns. At least he didn’t wear the damn shirt. Completely nude, he rubbed his hands together and jumped on the bed with the intention of finally getting a kiss from his Countess.

“Ah, ah, not yet,” she said and laid a hand on his bare breast. By the large window a metal tub waited for someone to climb in. “This will probably be your last bath for no telling how long.”  
“There’s rivers,” he teased and stepped into the warm water. “How’d you do this?”

“I paid Senora Jimenez to come in and make it. I’m surprised it’s not cold.”

“Nah, nah, it’s nice,” he replied and settled back with his knees sticking out of the water. “Give me a smoke, if you don’t mind,” he said and leaned his head back.  
Natasha opened the window first and then handed her cocky husband his smoke. She even lit it for him, which any smart man knows is a sign of danger. Buck was a smart man. “Honey?”

“Yes?”

“You know Steve wants you to stay behind and look after Sharon. He’s afraid of her being alone,” Buck explained the reasoning behind her not coming along this time.  
“I understand, darling,” she replied and took the homemade lye soap to his back and hair. Of course, using Steve and Sharon as the reason for her inactivity deflated some of her anger but not all of it. Lover boy was not getting off that easy. A little anger made for creative sex. 

Using a pitcher of water, she poured it over his head. He could dry himself off, and she handed him a towel when he stood up. Never let it be said Buck Barnes was shy or inhibited. Standing there in front of the window facing her on the bed, he made a fine figure of a man. When he grinned it was devastating.  
Taking the cheroot out of his mouth and setting it in an ashtray on the bureau, he asked, “Is it safe to come over?”

“Not really, but you might catch a chill standing there,” she remarked while enjoying the view. As they said in Texas, he was put together nicely. When it came to amore he was a man who appreciated the female body. Not many men could honestly make that claim, and not many women could say they loved the way their men made love. Natasha had absolutely no complaints. As told by Buck, he had learned the fine art of ‘fucking’ from a riverboat woman who had plied her trade on the Missouri and Mississippi all the way down to New Orleans. He’d actually spent a couple of unbroken nights in her bed. She remembered asking him if he had been twelve and getting the response “I was precocious”.

Buck wasted no time jumping on the bed and forcing his wife flat on the mattress. Maybe he shouldn’t have smoked first, but she didn’t seem to mind. Lovers in the truest sense of the word, they worshipped each other’s bodies. And it was hard to stay mad at a man with a mouth as hot and wicked as his. After bruising her lips with his kisses, he moved down her throat and over her collar bone to her breast. He loved the way the tight corset that made her assets stand up tall and proud, but he loved hearing her whimper more when he freed them and took a hard nipple in his mouth while toying with the other. He was a wicked man. 

A wicked wicked man who had her clutching at his still damp head while he moved lower to ‘sample her goods’. He didn’t let up until he had his wife sobbing in Russian and pleading with him to stop. Rising up on his hands and knees, his own desires burning fiercely in his eyes, his jaw slick with her juice, she climbed over her, but she did not let him mount her at that moment. She kissed him and ran her hand down his breast and belly to grasp his cock in her hand. He was so hard. Closing his eyes, he froze and simply concentrated on her hand stroking him and using the foreskin to tease his cockhead. It felt so good, he wondered if she was going to jack him off. When she finally released him, he slipped his spine and buried himself deep inside of her. She was so hot and wet and tight. When he rose on his arms, she grabbed his nipples and pinched them hard. Pain and pleasure merged in his brain to heighten his need.  
With all night before them, he fucked her as hard as he could and spilled his lust into her body. A short rest and they were ready to start over. Natasha knew she needed to let him sleep but she could not because of a nagging fear that this could be the last time she ever bedded her husband.

Finally exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, he drew her close to him, settled her head on his shoulder and stroked her hair. ‘Don’t be afraid,” he whispered drowsily and kissed the top of her head.

Easy for him to say, but as he drifted off she listened to him breathe, felt his warm body close to hers, and found comfort in the steady beat of his heart. She didn’t think she could stand to lose him again. In reality this would be the only man she would ever love.


	2. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Sharon fall into dangerous hands

Saying good-bye to Buck had been hard. Since his return to her two years earlier they hadn’t been a part for more than a day, and now he was going to be away for who knew how long. Seeing him off that morning, she had spent a long moment at his lips, memorizing how soft they were, the clean masculine scent of him after an early morning bath, the way he wove his fingers into her chestnut hair. If Sam and Steve had not been waiting on him, she would have dragged him back into their bed for one more round of ‘ride the pony’.

She and Sharon had stood side by side sniffling as their men rode off to prevent another Indian war. The rest of the day had been mopey, but the Countess was not the kind of woman to brood. Renting a buggy, she and Sharon went visiting up Round Rock way to the home of some church women that Sharon knew. Since they stayed a little late, they were offered the guest room for the night. With nothing to go home to, Natasha didn’t mind sitting on the painted porch watching the sun going down in a blaze of red and yellow. She couldn’t help but wonder what her husband was doing. 

“You going to eat burned beans?” Buck asked Sam who was digging into the pot for seconds.

“I do not believe in food going to waste,” Sam retorted. “Besides who knows when you’ll shoot another rabbit.”

“I’ll try to get us some wild chickens or quail tomorrow,” Buck said with all the cockiness of a born marksman. Stretched out on his bedroll, he puffed on a cheroot and smiled at the darkening sky. “Ain’t it pretty up there?” he remarked thoughtfully.

Steve looked up and pointed at one of the brighter lights overhead. “A scientist in Washington told me that’s the planet Venus, and its most like Earth, maybe even with people on it.”

Buck removed the cheroot from his mouth and studied Venus for a moment and then remarked, “That’s interesting.” Sticking the smoke back into his mouth, he wondered what his wife was doing. He hoped she wasn’t spending the night alone, not that he wanted her to have any male company entertaining her, but maybe she and Sharon could move in together.

Closing his eyes, he smiled. The Countess had been damn unhappy about being left behind, but rather than take it out on him in an angry fashion, she practically fucked his brains out, not to mention what she did when she got her silk scarves out. Thinking about something else before he had some difficulties, he took the cheroot out of his mouth and killed the fire. Stuffing the butt into his vest pocket, he willed himself to sleep.

Natasha was grateful when Sharon finally decided it was time to return home, although it was clear she didn’t want to leave. “Don’t worry, we can move in together,” Natasha assured her, feeling the need for company herself. Hitching up the rental horse, her own little Comanche pony off with Buck, she regretted not packing any unseemly trousers. Skirts and hoops were all right for visiting church ladies and having a fine dinner with your husband, but they were completely unacceptable mucking through a barn, harnessing a horse that doesn’t know you and is perfectly content to lay his ears back and take a passing swipe at you. Fortunately, a leather glove across the nose improved his demeanor long enough to get him hitched to the buggy.

Sharon, a lacy shawl across her shoulders, watched her get the horse hooked to the trace and remarked, “You handle him like a man.”

“If he was a gentleman, I’d be a lady,” Natasha answered and drew the reins into her hands. Walking the horse forward a few steps, she said, “Time to go.” Sharon could still climb into the buggy by herself. Waving at the church ladies, she thanked them for the lovely time while Natasha clicked the horse up. In no hurry to get home, enjoying the view ahead of them, she kept him at a slow trot. 

Stopping at one of the numerous creeks that circled Austin, she let the horse have a drink while she and Sharon climbed down to stretch their legs. In another hour they would be home. This close to civilization in a region long past Comanche depredation lulled Natasha into a sense of security. It was all right to sit by the creek in the shade of a wild pecan tree and have the little lunch the church ladies had prepared for them. The scent of the junipers growing on the cliffs overhead filled the air with a clean aroma. Everything was so peaceful that Natasha didn’t give the sound of nearing horses any thought. This was a main road; people used it.

She was never going to make that mistake again. Three horsemen, dusty and disheveled, at first rode past them, but the leader of the group suddenly drew rein and looked back at them. Too late Natasha recognized their danger and ran back to the buggy where she kept her derringer in her canvas bag. Terror seized her as she recognized the face of the man wrestling it violently away from her.

“Run!” she shouted at Sharon. “Run!” 

Running was a good idea, as was screaming, but it’s hard to run in long skirts, and with no one to hear you, yelling was pointless. Sharon was quickly captured by the two men with Hooser. He, grinning wickedly, pawed Natasha’s hair as she cringed away from him and tried to keep her calm. When he started unbuttoning the front of her dress and she didn’t slap him or scream, he stopped and looked at her with curious eyes that reminded her of fire. “You a whore?” he asked barely above a hiss.  
“No!” she snapped. “I just saw no point in getting hurt worst.”

“Really?” he asked with a sharp toothed grin. Hooser might have been a handsome man at one time, but the ugly spirit inside of him had twisted his features into something less than human. Natasha was genuinely afraid. “So you gonna spread your legs for me, cunt?”

She hated the terror that raced up her spine. “Please don’t, I’m a married woman.”

“Aw, and he left you alone out here, where anyone can just make off with you?”

“Please, if it’s a ransom you want, please send a message to Colonel Fury. He’ll…” A slap across the face stunned and silenced her.

While she cringed in fear and pain, he growled, “What kind of fool do you take me for?” Grabbing her arm, he dragged her back towards the creek. “Stay here and keep an eye open. If that one says anything, gut her.”

Natasha fought now as hard as she could, but the appearance of his Colt in her face stopped her. Ripping her bodice open, he pawed her breasts and then brought the Colt across her head. Not enough to knock her out, but it put her on the ground with pain ringing through her head. He hiked her skirts up and yanked her underthings down. A slight adjustment to his trousers and he had his cock out. Natasha closed her eyes and tried to fight again, but he grabbed her hands and slammed himself into her. The burn was fierce and terrible, but it didn’t last long. Dwight fortunately was quick on the trigger. Unfortunately, he was fond of rape.

Cutting the traces of the horse, he had Natasha and Sharon set on its back. Leaving the buggy in flames, he led the horse towards the northwest away from Austin.

“Natasha,” Sharon whispered anxiously over her shoulder, “what is happening?”

“Whatever you do don’t say anything,” Natasha warned her. “You know nothing.”

“I’m afraid.”

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the llano escatado was a no man's land


	3. the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> even nature itself seems to be conspiring against the women

For three days Natasha and Bobbi were dragged towards the northwest out on to the great sweeping grasslands of Texas. Natasha quickly learned that if she was to survive, she had to keep Dwight’s interest by resisting him. If she ever ‘broke’ he would kill her in the most terrible way possible. Thankfully they left Bobbi alone. She was blonde and one of their customers liked blondes, but only if they weren’t abused. Natasha could only think of one man with a taste for blondes…they were going to the camp of Quanah Parker. 

On the third day they arrived at the main camp and joined the other men who were running guns and female captives, although there were a couple of children present. Six men that she could see made up the Comancheros, and all of them showed Dwight great respect. She learned from the one of the other female captives, a woman who had been sorely abused as well, that there had been seven but that Dwight set him on fire one night and laughed while he burned.

When night fell the rape resumed. Natasha fought him as hard as she could, but a slap across the face ended her struggle. Dwight raped her and then offered her to the other men, a first for him. She didn’t fight the next man, just willing that he hurried up and got through. With the stench of rye whiskey on his breath, she turned her bruised face away and willed her thoughts elsewhere. Protect your mind, she told herself. They can’t touch you there.

The next man was old and hairy in stained buckskins that smelled of sweat and ‘other things’. He wanted a reaction and slapped her hard. She cried out and tried to get away from him, but this was what he wanted. A man came up behind him and grabbed him by the back of the shirt and dragged him off her. He cussed fiercely and drew a long blade, but the other man was prepared and kicked it away. A low deep growl that wasn’t human stopped buckskins in his tracks. He looked off to the side at a huge black Indian wolfdog that was prepared to rip his throat out if he made another move.

Natasha did not know what was happening but she looked up at the new man and almost wept. Red Wolf. Red Wolf was here! Fighting the urge to say his name, she watched as he tossed buckskins aside.

Dwight, his face all dark and dangerous, stood up and said, “You got no call to do that.”

“I do what I want, and I’m tired of seeing our profits lost because of shit like this,” Red Wolf answered and went to the fire to pour himself a cup of coffee in a tin cup. Even though he had his back to Dwight, the wolfdog was watching, alert and ready to spring if needed.

That night a storm hit them with all its fury. Red Wolf found them a buffalo robe to huddle under, but other than that he ignored them. Sharon terrified of the lightning and the wind, that seemed less like wind and more like the inhaling of some terrible monster, clung desperately to Natasha. With no place to run or hide, the two frightened women held on to each other and prayed. During the worst of it, when the rain slashed at them like sheets of glass, Red Wolf joined then. The big wolf crawled under the buffalo robe with them and for what seemed like an eternity the great devil of the prairies roared past them. Natasha had seen these tornados in Kansas, but this was a first for Sharon and she was beside herself with terror.

The terrible roar passed but the rain continued falling. Exhausted, her head upon Natasha’s shoulder, Sharon fell asleep. Fearful of giving Red Wolf away, Natasha didn’t say anything when he left them. Hugging Sharon when she moaned in her sleep, Natasha wondered where James was just before she also surrendered to sleep.

Red Wolf stood facing the northeast, the direction these storms always fled. The horses had hung together with heads down and their backs to the wind. Now they milled about in exhaustion. He checked his horse and found the leopard agitated. Stroking the gelding’s head, he looked back over his shoulder at the two women he had to protect some way. The blonde woman did not know him but he and Natasha were old friends.

Just before morning the storm unleashed on the town of Black Creek. James wrapped up in his bedroll in a bed of straw, listened to the wind whistle through the cracks in the old barn where he and Sam and Steve waited it out. They would be running into the army soon,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on Dec. 26th a tornado listed as an F-4 passed by my daughter's apartment in Garland Texas. less than a mile away that monster killed people and tore up the town of Rockwall. This was inspired by that,
> 
> The chapter is short, but my computer has been in the shop.


	4. refuge and hell is on the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Wolf leads the women away, but in a world full of white men who don't like Indians, who can he trust. 
> 
> oh, and hell is coming

The night was pure black, no stars in the sky, the ground soaking wet with a heavy fog hanging in the air. Everyone was huddled under something except for the Coushatta man who had just finished saddling the three horses he was taking. Easing back to the two women, he gently woke the Countess, who startled for a moment and then saw who it was. Pressing his finger to his lips, he indicated with a nod that they were leaving. Natasha awakened Sharon and silently they abandoned their cover and followed the man through the fog to the waiting horses.

Neither woman questioned their destination or the man leading them. Once mounted they slowly walked away from the camp, silence and the fog their ally. Red Wolf stopped briefly and listened. Nothing. “Stay close,” he whispered to the women and put spurs to his horse.

Natasha did not know where they were going, but their lives depended on staying together and getting as far away from Dwight Hooser as they could get. To save the horses, they slowed to an easy lope after a couple of miles. She had not noticed the wolf in the dark, but as the sky grayed she saw that he had stayed with them.

 

Steve found a telegraph office and sent a message to Fury telling them that they expected to make contact with the cavalry from OK within a couple of days. They were now riding with a pair of Texas Rangers who believed the end was near for Parker. Sam hated this but believed it was inevitable. The thing was to get to the Comanche before the Army.

Buck was smoking with one of the Rangers, a man named Coventry, when Steve exited the office with a troubled look on his face. Actually troubled was not quite right; he was damn near panic stricken. “What’s wrong?” he asked suspiciously.

“Sharon and Natasha are missing,” Steve answered grimly. “Colonel Fury was able to determine that they disappeared after leaving Red Rock.”

The Texas Ranger summed it up when he said, “Grabbed.” 

Buck’s heart clinched tight at the thought that his wife was in someone else’s hands, that Sharon was also ‘grabbed’. Tossing his cigar aside he strode quickly towards the stable where their horses were kept. Steve and the ranger followed. 

Steve glanced back at the ranger and asked, “Are you coming with us?”

“Considering it. Where’s your friend?”

Steve’s brow creased in thought. “We’ll saddle his horse and go find him.” 

By early afternoon five men were riding in a southwesterly direction out of town. Buck’s thought was ‘if Natasha could not get away from whoever grabbed her’ then it had to be comancheros, and they would be headed towards the panhandle...Mexico. The Texas rangers turned due south while Buck, Steve and Sam continue more southwesterly. Texas was one big ass state and once you left the hill country, everything got flat with tall grass and cattle herds moving towards the northern markets of Kansas. The entire state of Texas was moving towards the railheads, cattle by the thousands and Indian pony cowhorses. Steve had never seen such things, but for Sam and Buck it was not unusual. Stopping by one herd for any possible news, Buck and Sam ran into a trail boss they knew, a man named Petitemaine. Very few cowboys were gunmen and minded their own business on the trail, but Petitemaine did recall seeing someone he thought was Hooser just outside of Santone almost a week back. Hooser was the kind of man to put fear in God Almighty himself.

If Buck was afraid, then Steve was terrified.

 

Red Wolf had allowed the women and horses to rest as long as he could before mounting them back up. Now that he had his bearings about him, he realized they were in the middle of nowhere in a sea of grass. There were small settlements, very small, out here, but those folks were just as likely to shoot him and sell the women into a brothel as help them. And there was no way in hell that Hooser was going to let them go. If he turned back towards Austin, they would be found, and Wolf was not certain he could take all of them on.

 

Hooser stared at the body of the man hanging from the half dead tree by the water hole and smiled. Last time that son of a bitch was going to cost them a prisoner. Using the torch in his hand, he set the body on fire. The old bastard was still alive, but he wouldn’t be for long. Any reasonable man would have said that no one could have predicted that the Indin’ son of a bitch would run off with the white women, but Hooser didn’t care. Someone had to pay, and this old bastard was the one he picked. 

Mounting up he waited a moment to role himself a smoke and light it with a lucifer off his pants leg. When he caught up with that damned Indin’ and those women, he was going to burn them too. If there was a way to fuck that red haired whore while she burned, he would do it. The other men sat their horses uneasily as Hooser grinned and took his first drag on the quirley.

 

Red Wolf knew he would have to turn back east eventually, but there was danger in returning to the world of white men, still the two women were exhausted and hungry and scared. Natasha was holding on gamely, but the abuse was beginning to tell on her. Sharon was faring better.

At dusk they heard the lowing of cattle. A herd! As dangerous as it was for him, he decided he need to get the women some help, if only for the night. Riding into the camp with them, he held up his hands and said, “Hold, don’t shoot.” Natasha reached for Red Wolf’s arm as the cowboys hurried to assist the two women. Sharon instantly started explaining their mishap to them, explaining who their husbands were and begging for help if just for the night. These men and boys threw curious looks at Red Wolf but were old stock Texans enough to give aid to the desperate women. 

The cook fixed plates for the three visitors while one of the vaqueros made a tea for Natasha out of willow bark. It would help with the fever and some of the pain. Some time just at dark a man came in and asked about their visitors. He was young and had a lean hungry wolf look about him. At first Red Wolf worried about him until someone told him that Natasha’s husband was Captain Buck Barnes. 

The young taw ny haired wolf of a man came over and crouched by Natasha, his sharp gaze both respectful and worried. “Ma’am,” he began gently, “is your husband really Capt. Buck Barnes?”

Unsure of him, her thoughts jumbled by the fever she had developed, she sucked on her split lip a moment and then nodded. “Yes.”

“Ma’am, don’t you worry none,” he assured her. “An’ you stay as long as you need.” He said that for Red Wolf's benefit as well.

Red Wolf was stunned. “You are generous,” he said cautiously.

“A debt I owe the captain. He saved my life in a bad river once on a drive a couple of years back.”

Red Wolf thought the man needed to know who was chasing them. “I thank you for them, but you should know, we run from Dwight Hooser.”

The cowboy considered it a moment and then said, “I reckon that’s good to know, but we don’t abide by men who hurt women of any kind.” Rising to his feet, he looked to the other men and said, “Keep your eyes open tonight, boys. See anyone sing out.” Looking down at Red Wolf, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“In English, Red Wolf.”

The tawny haired cowboy nodded and walked away. Turned out his name was Pecos Brian, he was the trail boss and part owner of the herd, 4,000 strong meandering its way to Witchita. That night when he went back on watch, Red Wolf took his turn. It was a way to keep an eye on who might be following them and to pay the man back for his protection. Natasha's fever did not get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Women were scarce out on the grasslands of Texas and sacred. Women might be nasty to each other, but to a cowboy all women were special.


	5. revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck sees his wife and knows what he has to do

Natasha shuddered through the night in Sharon’s arms. When daylight came and the cookie broke camp, the two women climbed into the wagon, Natasha lying in a make shift bed behind the driver’s seat. Sharon kept an eye on her and made sure she drank sips of water when she could. Red Wolf, who had ridden night watch on the herd, came by briefly to check on them. He was losing time getting to the Palo Duro, but God forgive him he couldn’t leave the women alone.

 

The herd headed north on the trail was several weeks out of San Antonio. Driving cattle was long and hard, the need to get them to Dodge not to be outweighed by the need to get them there fat. The owner of the herd and trail boss was Pecos Brian, and he was a no nonsense young man when it came to doing what was right. Always alert for what might be following them, he sat his flashy palomino and studied the terrain around them. The bad guys were south of them, but shouts from the point let him know someone was coming from the north. Spinning his horse around, he galloped back to the head of the herd with his pistol in hand. Three riders were coming.

It took him a second to recognize the black man and grizzle faced white man beside him. The tall blond was unknown to him. “Cap,” he shouted and waved the man to him. “Cap! Sam!”

Buck did not know what to expect, but he recognized the man on the yellow horse. A man with long black hair joined Pecos . Red Wolf! Oh dear God, please! 

“Your wife is in my camp.” Pecos informed him and led him back to the chuck.

Red Wolf, needing to warn the man, reined in beside Buck and said, “Natasha has been hurt.”

Buck’s worst fear seized his heart. Spurring his new horse, leaving Tahuya to follow the other horses, he raced into the camp. The cook reined in his team as Sharon turned back and crawled into the covered wagon. “Natasha, Buck is here!”

There wasn’t much room behind the seat, but Buck squeezed into the space and reached for his injured wife. “Who did this?” he growled at Sharon.

“Hooser,” the woman answered as Steven poked his head through the opening. 

Buck, holding his wife to his breast, decided that as soon as he could, he was going to kill Hooser. Sharon climbed out of the space as Natasha realized who was holding her. “Buck,” she gasped and grabbed the lapels of his long coat. 

“It’s all right, honey, I got you.”

That evening Buck made a proper bed for his wife, but his thoughts were elsewhere . If Hooser was back there somewhere looking for his wife and Sharon, then he needed to go meet him. What was one Barnes over another?

“He’s crazy,” Red Wolf said from his seat near the cook fire.

Standing beside it, looking south, Buck’s jaws clenched and unclenched as he thought about it. “Steve, I’d appreciate it if you’d look after Natasha while I’m away, providing Pecos doesn’t mind letting you and them tag along.”

“You going after Hooser?” Pecos asked.

“Someone needs to kill him,” Buck replied indifferently. Some people just needed killing, and he didn’t mind being the executioner.

“When we leaving?” Sam asked curiously while nursing a cup of coffee.

“You don’t have to come,” Buck told him.

“Someone’s gotta watch your back,” Sam retorted sensing that Buck was going to leave that night.

Buck smiled, thin and angry. “Guess we ‘re wasting time,” he decided. Seeing Red Wolf rise from his seat on the ground, he asked, “You coming too?”

“He’s got a crew. You’ll need help.”

“What about your women?”

“Among the Comanche by now. I’ll find them when we find Quannah.”

Steve, frowning, added, “If McKenzie doesn’t find them first.”

Three men, one white, one black and one Native, saddled up and left behind everything that would slow them down. For the cowboys on the drive, it was a sight none had ever before seen. Before leaving Buck looked in on his sleeping wife. Seeing her beautiful face battered and bruised filled him with such a rage he couldn’t stand it. Climbing off the wagon before he woke her, he mounted his horse, waited for Sam and Wolf to mount up and then took off.

A few hours before dawn they made a cold camp and took turns sleeping. For the men it was a restless time, particularly for Buck who had stopped to give the men with him and the horses a rest. An hour after sunup they were mounted and moving again. By noon they spotted some mounted men at a noonday camp.

Reining up short Wolf didn’t need to look twice to know they had found Hooser and his men, five total. 

“You sure that’s him?” Buck asked grimly.

“That’s him.”

Buck nudged his horse forward, surprising Sam and Wolf. Just to be safe Sam pulled his carbine out of his scabbard and laid it across his knees. If this was going to be a suicide ride he didn’t want it to be completely lopsided. 

 

Hooser stood by the fire and watched the three men slowly ride towards them. That son of a bitch Wolf was with them. Suddenly the white man spurred his horse and yelled, two pistols appearing in his hand. 

 

Natasha could not help it. Buck had been here with her and now he was gone chasing after Hooser. She wanted him back and cried, silently to herself. The pain in her body was ebbing but the fear in her mind grew, and when the wagon stopped to make camp for the night, she was beside herself with worry. Steve tried to reassure her that if anyone could pull a hair brained scheme like this off, it was Buck, plus he had Sam and Wolf with him. As much as she trusted Sam and Wolf, she still feared for her husband.

Noon the next day moving slowly on the trail he came back to her, a bullet hole through the meat of his arm but otherwise fine. Sam, a bullet crease across his skull chewed him out and threatened to do more body harm, but no one believed him. He would tell her what happened at camp that evening.

**Author's Note:**

> the winter of 1874/75 was the last time the Comanches lived free as a people. Texas Comancheros were really vile people. On the frontier there was no law but what the Texas Rangers could bring to the land. Historically the Rangers and the Comanches hated each other. After their surrender many old Ranger like Charles Goodnight who may be in the story or not....helped them. An honorable enemy.


End file.
